


What If I Told You I Made It

by Perkalil



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: A healthy balance of both, But also in the hc of Inevitable Inevitable, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Hidgens is mentioned but not how you think, Hurt/Comfort, Kind of a stand alone, Probably the fluffiest thing I've written yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 20:34:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21994774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perkalil/pseuds/Perkalil
Summary: Paul and Emma have Melissa and her girlfriend over for dinner. That's the plot. A healthy mix of hurt/comfort and tooth-rotting fluff.
Relationships: Melissa/Original Character, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Inevitable Inevitable HC





	What If I Told You I Made It

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this super-indulgent fic that stemmed from the fact that I firmly believe that Paul is the cooker and Emma likes watching. Set in my Inevitable, inevitable headcannon so if some things don't make sense give it a read!

Emma walked down the stairs carefully in her heels, all her focus on keeping her balance. The staircase was already steeper than any house she had lived in in Michigan, and the fact that she was wearing new heels was not helping. It also wasn’t helpful to have a squirming cat in her arms, but Hidgens wouldn’t come down the stairs unless he was carried. The drama queen. She was about halfway down when her shoe caught on a piece of loose carpeting and she pitched forward, a yelp coming out of her mouth and her arms releasing the cat in order to grab at the railings. Hidgens landed on his feet a few stairs down and grumbled his displeasure.

“Sorry, Hidgens, but I was about to die and I would’ve taken you with me.” Emma righted herself and got down the rest of the stairs, the cat following her the few more steps down to the main level. She walked across the entryway back towards the kitchen, her heels making a solid noise against the hardwood floors.

“Were you just trying to carry Hidgens downstairs in your heels?” Paul’s voice sounded from the kitchen and Emma froze in the hall. A blush spread across her face as his head poked out of the doorway to look at her. He moved out into the hall and leaned against the doorframe, his hands folded behind his back. 

“...Maybe.” Paul sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but Emma walked up to him and put her hands on his chest. She smoothed down the front of his dress shirt absentmindedly as she spoke. “But you know he doesn’t like walking down those stairs, he gets scared! Besides, Melissa loves him and it’ll be something for us to talk about if General Cunningham gets too caught up talking with you.” She pushed the both of them into the kitchen, the smell of chicken and garlic wafting in the small space.

“She does not get ‘caught up’ talking with me, I just happen to like to know how the project is going, even if I’m out of it.” Paul took one of Emma’s hands and kissed her knuckles before turning back to the stove to finish mashing potatoes. Emma hopped up onto the counter to watch him work and Hidgens followed, sitting in her lap.

“Well, I don’t, I have absolutely no interest in how that project is going. The Infection isn’t contagious anymore so it’s not a threat. Besides, it’s not like we know any of the new subjects for the antibody, they were Clivesdale citizens.” She heard the edge to her words as she spoke and Paul shot her a quizzical look. “What man? I just- I don’t like talking about it.” He nodded and took her hand again.

“I know, Em, but I am interested in how it’s progressing. I’ll try to keep from asking about it during dinner.” Emma smiled in appreciation as Paul leaned down to check on the chicken and vegetables in the oven and she took the opportunity to dip her finger in the chicken gravy cooling on the stovetop and let Hidgens lick it off with happy purrs. Paul stood back up and swatted at Emma’s leg playfully.

“Stop letting Hidgens eat while he’s way up here, next thing you know he’ll be in the cabinets, eating us out of house and home!” Hidgens let out a satisfied grumble and stood, stretching in Emma’s lap. He jumped onto the floor and sauntered to the bay window overlooking the backyard, settling on the ottoman shoved underneath it. Emma cooed at how he curled up and looked back at Paul.

“How can I possibly say no to that? He’s too adorable, I can’t help myself.” Paul tossed in the garlic and butter into the potato pot and looked back at her. He had a weary smile on his face and leaned against her legs, Emma responding by pressing her forehead against his. She giggled and rested her hands on his cheeks as he tried staring her down.

“Emma Perkins, what am I possibly going to do with you?” Before she could answer, the doorbell sounded from the entryway. They broke apart, smiling widely, and Paul stepped back to keep working on dinner. Emma hopped off the counter, wincing slightly at an old ache in her bad leg. Paul reached out to steady her instinctually, offering his arm for her to grab without turning away from the stove. Emma held onto his wrist until the pain subsided then patted it to signal she was okay.

“Don’t forget to put on your jacket, babe, it ties the whole outfit together!” Emma called back into the kitchen as she reached the door, pulling it open to reveal Melissa and General Cunningham, a bottle of wine in each woman’s hands. “Hey Mel, General! Awe, you didn’t have to bring that!”

“Call me Grace, please, we’ve known each other for long enough to get past that formality.” The General laughed politely as she came into the entryway, Melissa following. The former secretary set down the bottle on a side table and pulled Emma into a hug that she returned. 

“It’s been too long Em.” Melissa pulled back and looked her up and down. 

Emma chuckled, her hands instinctively going to Melissa’s forearms to keep steady in her heels. “It’s only been a few days Mel. We saw each other on Thursday.” They stood for a few moments together, holding onto each other. They had done this since the end of the Apotheosis, confirming that everything was real, that they were safe and weren’t dreaming.

“I know.” Melissa grinned giddily again, looking around the entryway. “So, this is your place?”

Emma broke away first, taking a few steps down the hall to invite them further into the house. “Yeah! This is it, finally furnished and really our home. Paul’s finishing up dinner in the kitchen, but, ah, we can go into the dining room, or the living room and open up one of those bad boys.” She smiled and led the couple further into the house, towards the dining room. She walked slowly, definitely showing off how very put together and adult the house looked. 

“So Em, how’s the memoir coming?” General Cunningham set the bottles of wine down on the table as Emma walked around to a cabinet to grab the nice glasses. She handed glasses out to Melissa then closed it tightly.

“Uh, it’s going. It’s hard to separate what was happening from what I remember, ya know? And uh, sometimes I get… too into my head.” Emma set down the glass in her hand as the General poured wine, an anxious feeling filling her stomach. She wasn’t the biggest fan of writing the memoir, but her therapist told her that writing out everything that had happened to her might help keep her panic down. It didn’t stop the nightmares and panic attacks from hitting her if she tried to write a really bad memory, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone that. They were all so interested in seeing the book finished. Her hands shook slightly and she gripped onto the back of a chair to steady them. “But, uh, I’m getting through the worst of it now, the rest should be smooth sailing.” 

General Cunningham smiled sympathetically at her as she rounded the corner of the table, wrapping her arm around Melissa’s waist. “That’s great, Emma, I’m glad it’s going well.”

“Talking about her book?” Paul appeared from the kitchen, shrugging his jacket on. He ran a hand up her arm, and Emma leaned into his touch. “She’s getting really far into it now, it’s amazing. I can’t fathom sitting at that laptop writing everything down all day like that.” She smiled, the anxious feeling getting more aggressive. Paul hugged Melissa and the General, greeting them warmly. “Dinner is all ready, you came just in time. Em, wanna help me out bringing it in the dining room?”

“Yeah, of course!” She laughed politely and helped Paul bring out the food, trying very hard to stay steady as she walked from tile to the plush rug under the dining table in her heels. The last thing she needed was to trip and spill potatoes all down her dress. But it didn’t happen, and the dinner went great. The conversation was easy, especially between herself and Melissa. General Cunningham couldn’t compliment the food enough, and Paul was red in the face from the praise. No one mentioned the book again and Emma was able to relax into the meal. It eased seamlessly into after-dinner drinks in the living room, where Hidgens made his grand entrance by barreling into Melissa’s lap. She squealed in delight and cuddled with the grouchy cat, her wine glass abandoned. General Cunningham and Paul had ditched the wine after dinner, setting on stronger drinks as they discussed the progress of eradicating the Infection from Clivesdale and the other affected cities. She could tell Paul was trying to be discreet about his questions, but Emma caught a few snippets of their conversation and she felt her heart begin to race. Talking about the Infection was worse than writing about it, and she couldn’t stand to listen to what the General was saying about a group of salvageable Infected. She turned sharply to Melissa, desperate to leave the room. 

“Mel, you want to see the upstairs? Hidgens probably wants to hide out for a while after being down here all night.” The cat in question meowed and stretched in Melissa’s lap, jumping off and heading to the stairway.

Melissa giggled at the cat’s behavior, oblivious to Emma’s behavior. “Sure, Em, you know I’ll follow him anywhere.” Emma sat up from the couch, leading Melissa to the second floor. Hidgens flew up the stairs before disappearing into a bedroom, grumbling happily. 

“So, uh, we’ve got a couple of spare rooms, one’s my office and one’s our gym. And we got a linen closet, a bathroom, and Paul’s and my room.” Emma finally relaxed, walking slowly on the carpet to avoid falling in her heels. She led Melissa to her bedroom where Hidgens was lounging on the duvet, his little paws tucked under him. 

“Oh my God, what a gorgeous view! How’d you manage to score this?” Even with the nagging sensation that she was going to implode, Emma had to agree. The view can’t be beat, their bedroom window overlooking the brick wall of their backyard and out into the Potomac River. It was their own sliver of paradise in the middle of DC, She and Paul would sit and watch the sun play on the water all day when they could.

“Perks of technically being a war hero and dead, therefore being placed in witness protection.” She leaned against her vanity, feeling her bad leg start to ache. It had improved drastically with physical therapy, but the damage had been done long before she ever got operated on. 

“So you and Paul are settling in together well?” Melissa moved to perch on the end of the bed, petting Hidgens absentmindedly as Emma stepped out of her heels. 

“Yeah, everything’s been going great!” Emma tossed her heels at the foot of her bed and crawled up next to Melissa. “Paul’s been adjusting really well, and it’s really nice to have someone in the house again besides Hidgens. He’s great company, but he can’t hold a conversation for shit.” She scratched her cat behind the ears affectionately, a soft smile on her face as he purred. “How’s it been with you and the General?”

Melissa blushed and played with her hair absently. “Oh, it’s been amazing. She’s just… amazing.” She flushed red when she caught Emma smirking at her. “And you know you don’t have to call her that, she really wants you to call her Grace.”

“I can’t do that. She’ll always be General Cunningham to me. Something about the title, I don’t know. It just suits her better in my eyes.” Emma curled against her friend, letting the silence afterward envelop her. As it dragged on, her anxieties began to resurface and she began picking at the duvet cover, pulling at the pilling in the fabric. “Maybe I’ll put something about that in my book, when I get to it.” Shit. She brought it up, that damn book that she didn’t want to write but everyone wanted her to do exactly that. She hated writing that fucking book, it freaked her out, and her anxiety only increased at Melissa’s encouraging nod. Now she just promised to add something in her book that she immediately dreaded. Emma realized with a start that her breathing had become shaky and she tried to stop it before Melissa noticed, sucking in a large breath to stop it in a quick gasp.

But of course she noticed. Melissa always noticed; after living together for over a year and dealing with each other’s fucked up coping habits, she’d always notice. The former secretary placed her hand gently on her shoulder, causing Emma to release the breath she had been holding. “Em? What going on? You sure you’re okay?”

“It’s, uh,” she looked down, not sure how to even breach the topic without sounding like a lunatic. “It’s that fucking book.”

“What about it hun?” Melissa began to run her hand through Emma’s hair, trying her best to soothe her. “Are you not liking how it’s turning out?” Emma shook her head, and Melissa frowned. “Is Paul trying to give you suggestions of what to write? Or your therapist? Because it’s your story you know, you can tell it however you want.”

“I don’t want to tell it.” Emma’s words were small, afraid of her reaction. “I- I don’t want to write it. I don’t feel comfortable writing it.”

Melissa’s hand stilled in her hair and Emma sat up, certain that she’s disappointed her friend in some way. “Oh.” was the only thing Melissa said, and the short phrase caused tears to spring up in Emma’s eyes. Fucking great, she was crying now. God damn anxiety. “Oh, Emma, honey, it’s okay, c’mere.” she pulled Emma close, rocking her gently back and forth as the tears kept coming. “It’s okay to not want to write it, why haven’t you told anyone?”

“Because I- everyone seemed so proud and- I just- I don’t want to let anyone down, you know? But- but every time that I sit down to write- I just- I get vivid flashbacks- and- and it’s like I’m there again and none of this is real anymore, but I can’t just stop writing it because everyone will be so disappointed- and- and I just can’t be a disappointment anymore!” She pulled away to look Melissa in the eye. “It’s like, I helped stop the fucking Infection, so everyone expects me to be some kind of hero, and I’m not a hero. I’m just Emma for Christ sake! Everyone is counting on me to finish this book, but I can’t do it. It’s like I’m reliving it every day, it’s killing me.” Melissa reached out to grab her forearm, Emma returning the gesture. They sat in silence until Emma’s breathing calmed down, the two grounding themselves in the moment. Slowly, Emma’s thoughts began to slow; she was here, this was real, Melissa is here to help her get through it. She let go of a deep breath and drew her arm back, signaling to Melissa that she was better. The secretary resumed running her fingers through Emma’s hair. Hidgens decided it was the perfect moment to walk across Emma’s stomach and curl up on her chest, coaxing a chuckle from her throat.

“You know, uh.” Melissa started and stopped her thought, her leg bouncing a little. “When I first moved in with Grace, my panic attacks and nightmares got a lot worse. She, uh, didn’t really know how to handle me when I got really bad. We had a nurse living in our spare room to sedate me for about a week. I told her it was a good idea, but it really wasn’t working out.” She curled up next to Emma, the women laying on the large bed. “I kept begging her to not kill me. I guess she was an Infected in my flashbacks. But it turned out that it was all of the government memorabilia in our bedroom that was causing it, so Grace had to box it all away. She told me that it was important that I felt safe in my own home.” Emma looked over at her and Melissa smiled sympathetically. “You don’t have to write if you don’t want to. Everyone will understand that it’s not healthy for you.” Emma nodded.

A knock at the door stopped her from responding and the two of them sat up, sending HIdgens back onto the duvet cover. Paul was leaning against the doorframe, keeping his distance. “Hey, uh, Grace was getting ready to head out, but she didn’t want to interrupt anything. She got a call from HQ.” Melissa sighed with a smile and stretched, getting up from the mattress.

“Life is never dull.” She chuckled and turned back to Emma. “Walk me down?” 

Emma nodded and got off the bed, walking with Paul and Melissa down to the entryway. A warmth pooled in her stomach as she hugged her goodbye, planning to meet up sometime in the week to talk again. She waved goodbye to General Cunningham, who shared a short goodbye with Paul. Melissa hugged Paul farewell and the two women left hand in hand. Paul shut the door tightly behind them, leaning his back against the door with a tired smile. Emma returned it and walked over to him, cuddling into his chest.

“Doing okay Em? How’s the leg?” He ran his nails along her back and Emma practically purred and leaned into his touch.

“It’s doing okay. I took my heels off upstairs so it’s not really hurting.” She buried her head into his chest, listening intently to his heartbeat.

“You wanna go to bed? You seem pretty tired.” He eased her face up with tender hands, adoration in his eyes. Emma blushed involuntarily; he was such a dork and she loved him so much.

“Yeah. Carry me?” He snorted, but lifted her into his arms bridal style.

“How can I say no?”

**Author's Note:**

> I just really wanted to write that bit where Paul is leaning against Emma in the kitchen and Emma has his face in her hands. Also sorry for the amount of worldbuilding in this fic, I have a feeling I'll be coming back to this hc for a while longer. Let me know what you thought!


End file.
